


nobody, not even the rain

by frapucinno



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Fantasy, Hard to explain, M/M, Magical Realism, Psychic Abilities
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-21 08:16:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17040122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frapucinno/pseuds/frapucinno
Summary: “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”“You don’t get it, Jihoon. It was so weird,” Soonyoung says, wringing his hands. “It felt so… so real.”“Aren’t all your dreams real?” Wonwoo supplies from where he’s standing by the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in his hands, fogging up his glasses. “They’re bound to happen sooner or later.”“I meant like it felt as if it was happening in real time. It wasn’t like a vision or anything,” Soonyoung explains. “Usually when I dream, it’s as if I’m watching a movie. This time —”“It felt as if you were in it?” Jihoon continues.





	nobody, not even the rain

**Author's Note:**

  * For [rinnenotsubasa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinnenotsubasa/gifts).



> hopefully i did this tiny boat and your prompt justice! 'sleeping to dream' is such a great song and i guess i've interpreted and weaved it into the story a bit differently than how one might expect. i've always wanted to write a soonhui and a magical realism-esque au, so here it is! i was very excited to write for this ship since i adore '96 line so much. i sincerely hope you'll like this! happy holidays!!! 
> 
>  
> 
> (please refer to the end notes for warnings and disclaimers!) 

Soonyoung dreams.

Soonyoung dreams, and more often than not they’re a little fuzzy around the edges, the pictures blurry but still clear enough that he’s able to write about them in his worn-out notebook that rests on his bedside table. _The kitchen will flood tomorrow._ _A bird will crash into the windshield of a gray sedan. Minor accident in Dongdaemun, no fatalities._

Tonight, Soonyoung dreams again, but it’s as sharp as a knife digging into the space between his eyes: the soil is barren and dry under his feet, and the empty field stretches out into the distance as far as the eye can see. A young man sits in the middle of it with his back turned towards him, and when Soonyoung tries to walk forward, his movements are slow and sluggish, his mind hazy.

Something in him tells him to reach out, so he does. He feels a crackle at the base of his spine, like thunder before rain. The young man sighs softly, tired and warm and bitter, and turns around.

Soonyoung wakes up in a cold sweat before he could see his face.

 

***

 

“You saw him?”

“Yes. Well, not really. I woke up before I could actually see what he looked like.”

Jihoon hums, leaning back against the worn out couch. His fingers play with the stray threads, picks at the graying fabric. “I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.”

“You don’t get it, Jihoon. It was so weird,” Soonyoung says, wringing his hands. “It felt so… so _real_.”

“Aren’t all your dreams real?” Wonwoo supplies from where he’s standing by the kitchen counter, a mug of tea in his hands, fogging up his glasses. “They’re bound to happen sooner or later.”

“I meant like it felt as if it was happening in real time. It wasn’t like a vision or anything,” Soonyoung explains. “Usually when I dream, it’s as if I’m watching a movie. This time —”

“It felt as if you were in it?” Jihoon continues.

“Exactly. It’s so bizarre. I’ve never experienced anything like it before. Do you think it has something to do with the ley lines?”

Jihoon shakes his head. “I don’t think so. I don’t feel like anything’s out of place. Wonwoo?”

Wonwoo shrugs. “Everything seems normal to me.”

Soonyoung pouts, sinking further into his seat. He feels the crackle at the base of his spine again, inside his bones, but it’s duller this time. Says nothing about it. “I just feel like it’s… it’s _something_ , you know?”

“We’ll tell you if anything feels off, but for now,” Wonwoo says, setting his now empty mug in the sink, clinking against the rest of the unwashed dishes, “we have a shop to run.”

 

***

 

There’s a little store tucked away between more modern and larger shophouses, so inconspicuous that you’d miss it if you weren’t actively looking for it. Four neon stars rest just above the door, a blue so bright that it tends to burn on the back of eyelids. Nothing else indicates that it’s actually a store except for the little sign that says ‘PSYCHIC READINGS AVAILABLE’ stuck onto the glass door written in dark blue ink on eggshell white paper.

The store was run by Wonwoo alone at first — he lives in the second floor and doing tarot card readings was just a way of making a little extra pocket money on the side. Then Jihoon came along, all fumbling hands and star stained skin, a force to be reckoned with. He’s arguably the strongest out of the three of them.

And then Soonyoung joins them not long after; his dreams became clearer once he found them, like condensation on a glass pane that has been finally wiped away. It’s as if the universe wanted them to be together, and he knows better than to deny the universe from what it wants.

It’s always been the three of them, for as long as Soonyoung remembers. But lately, he feels like something’s missing; it throws him off-center, just a miniscule shift that he’s probably the only one who could sense it, or that he’s the only one affected by it. He doesn’t bring this up to Jihoon or Wonwoo.

 

***

 

The coffee table is old and in dire need of replacing, but none of them actually bother enough to go to the store and get a new one. Soonyoung traces the condensation rings on the wood with his finger; around, around, around.

Wonwoo spreads his deck out face-down in front of him. “Pick a card,” he instructs Soonyoung. Jihoon is dead silent and still from where he’s sitting beside Wonwoo, a familiar sight whenever they’re exercising their abilities. The way they work is this: Jihoon taps into Wonwoo’s energy and in return, Jihoon’s able to act as an amplifier of sorts for Wonwoo whenever he needs it. At the end of it, Wonwoo is usually exhausted because it takes a lot to be able to handle Jihoon — Soonyoung should know; the last time Jihoon tried to tap into him he passed out for two whole days. Jihoon’s and Wonwoo’s energies work so well together that it’s almost symbiotic. Soonyoung doesn’t want to know what it means.

Soonyoung’s hand hovers over the cards, one by one. It’s an action he’s done so many times that it’s second nature to him, but this time it’s different; he feels what can only be described as a pull when his hand pauses above the last card in the row. He takes a breath before flipping it over.

Judgement.

_Rebirth._

Jihoon turns to face Wonwoo, his head tilted almost questioningly. There’s an unreadable expression on Wonwoo’s face. Soonyoung chooses to ignore it.

Outside, he hears a star falling.

 

***

 

Soonyoung dreams again: crystal clear, two-toned sky, barren field. The young man is still there, not having moved from the spot where Soonyoung saw him a night ago. Soonyoung’s movements this time aren’t as sluggish and he’s able to reach the man in three quick strides, almost as if an invisible force is pulling him towards the man, or perhaps pushing him.

“You’re here,” the man sighs. “Finally.”

Thunder rumbles in Soonyoung’s bones. He smells petrichor on pavement. The man turns around.

The first thing Soonyoung notices about him is his eyes: delicate and slanted like a cat’s, a brown so deep that Soonyoung finds himself drowning in them, desperately gasping for air. When they lock with his own, it’s like as if all the air has been knocked out of his body, his windpipe tied into a tight knot so that he’s unable to inhale.

The man’s features are soft but sharp, both a rose petal and its thorns, haunting in a way that Soonyoung couldn’t quite explain, doesn’t quite understand. He’s beautiful — the kind of beautiful that starts forest fires and make wildflowers bloom.

Soonyoung manages to unclog his throat and ask, “Have you been waiting for me?”

The man rises to his feet, and when he’s standing it’s clear that he’s taller than Soonyoung, if only by a few inches. “Have I? I don’t know. It feels like it.”

“That’s an odd answer.”

The man just laughs.

“Are you - Are you real?” Soonyoung asks again.

The man tilts his head to one side. “Of course. I’m very much real. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Soonyoung shrugs. “I don’t know. This is so weird. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.”

“You’ve never… dreamed?”

“I have! It’s just… It’s never felt like… Like _this_ before,” Soonyoung gestures at the air vaguely.

“Well, I hope you get used to it. I don’t think I’ll be leaving anytime soon.”

“Why would you say that?”

This time, it’s the man’s turn to shrug. “Just a feeling.”

Soonyoung opens his mouth to respond but stops abruptly when he looks down at his hands — they’re, for a lack of a better word, _fading_ ; it didn’t take more than a few seconds for everything before his knuckle to disappear.

“W-What’s happening?” Soonyoung asks, voice shaking. He looks at the young man worriedly, but the other seems unperturbed.

“Don’t worry,” he says in a much more cheerful tone that Soonyoung would like considering the fact that he’s _fading_. “You’re just waking up.”

“Waking up?” Soonyoung looks down at his arms — they’ve already disappeared — and looks back up at the man again. “Will I see you again?”

The man chuckles. “I hope so.”

“Wait, what’s your name?” Soonyoung asks frantically. Everything past his thighs is already gone, and even in his own ears his voice is starting to sound faraway. “I’m Soonyoung.”

The man just smiles: bright and blinding and saccharine. “See you soon, Soonyoung.”

 

***

 

“Soonyoung? _Soonyoung!_ ”

Soonyoung startles, drops his notebook onto the rug. He whips his head towards Wonwoo sitting opposite of him on the ratty old couch. “Yeah?”

“Are you okay?” Wonwoo raises an eyebrow. “You look like you were completely out of it. I thought you’ve been possessed or something.”

Soonyoung clears his throat and picks his notebook back up, dusts the shedding wool off of its covers. “I’m fine.”

“You sure? You seem… different,” Jihoon says, setting down his small tin watering can right on the edge of the windowsill, fixing the little pots of purple verbenas so they’re perfectly aligned. He shrugs. “I don’t know how else to put it.”

“I’m fine,” Soonyoung repeats. “I’m just tired, I guess.”

“Did you dream about that dude again?” asks Wonwoo, taking his glasses off to clean them with the hem of his shirt before putting them back on to look directly at Soonyoung.

Soonyoung shakes his head and lies. “No.”

He doesn’t know why, but it felt almost wrong if he were to tell Wonwoo and Jihoon that yes, he did dream about the man again. Yes, he did see his face clearly this time, and he looks almost… familiar. The man’s a stranger to him, but at the same time he’s not. Soonyoung’s normally the type who would tell Wonwoo and Jihoon anything and everything, but this piece of information just feels weirdly personal.

Wonwoo studies him, eyes sharp. If he could tell Soonyoung was lying, he doesn’t give it away; only says, “Hm. Okay.”

Soonyoung opens up his notebook, stares at the page where he had jotted down: _cat, rain, wildflowers, drown._

He’s not sure why he didn’t say anything to Wonwoo and Jihoon. Maybe the universe doesn’t want him to just yet.

 

***

 

The sun had just risen, peaking above the horizon as it washes the entire market in a golden, orange-tinged glow. Even though the day had just started, the market was already bustling with life as if it had never slept at all in the first place. Soonyoung adjusts the reusable shopping bag on his shoulder as he walks past endless stalls, scanning over each and every one to look for the fertilizer that Jihoon had instructed him to get for his verbenas.

Soonyoung had just spotted a flower stall when he hears someone call out, “Excuse me, young man!”

He turns around to find a wrinkled old lady waving at him. He points at himself. “Me?”

The lady nods and gestures for him to come over. “Yes, you! Come, come!”

Soonyoung approaches her — she looks harmless enough standing behind her stall table, a warm smile gracing her features that makes it easy for Soonyoung to immediately trust her. Lined upon the wooden table were rows and rows of gleaming crystals and gems: amethysts, jades, sodalites and even some that Soonyoung has never even seen before.

Soonyoung picks up a rose quartz and holds it against the light. “You have a beautiful collection, ma’am.”

“Of course I do! I source them all myself,” the old lady grins proudly. “I’m known as the crazy old crystal lady around here because I believe that all of these have their own unique powers. But you knew that already, didn’t you?”

Soonyoung gently returns the rose quartz back in its place alongside other the quartzes. “What do you mean?”

The lady ignores his question. “I see that you’re feeling troubled lately, young man. That’s why I called you over.”

Soonyoung blinks. “I’m not —”

“Don’t try to deny it!” she cuts him off, waving her hands. “I can sense that you’re anxious. Confused. Something’s bothering you. What is it?”

“I —” Soonyoung pauses. Is it right to tell this stranger about the dreams he’s been having? Will she even believe him? Judging from her behaviour, it’s possible that she might be a psychic of some sorts too, or at least have an inkling about Soonyoung’s powers. People like them somehow always manage to find each other. After mulling it over for a few seconds, Soonyoung decides that telling her really wouldn’t hurt anyone. “Well… There’s this guy —”

“Aha! I knew it! Boy trouble!”

“Not like that!” Soonyoung says. He coughs into his hand. “I mean… I’ve been having these… these _dreams_ about this one guy. And I can’t stop thinking about him. If I’m spacing out or whatever my mind always comes back to him. It’s… weird. And I can’t bring myself to tell my friends about him. I don’t know why this is happening.”

The lady raises an eyebrow. “Not like _that_ , huh?”

Putting it that way really did make it seem like he was having ‘boy trouble’. Soonyoung drags a hand down his face. “It really isn’t. Please trust me.”

The lady hums, looking him up and down. Her eyes felt like as if they were piercing through his very being, right past his flesh and into his soul. It’s not long before she picks out a gemstone from her collection — a smoky light blue one half the size of his thumb — and places it in Soonyoung’s palm.

“Celestite,” Soonyoung says, turning the gem over in his hand. Tendrils of white and gray wrap around it, making the gemstone look like a miniature version of an overcast sky.

“You know your stuff,” the lady grins, folding Soonyoung’s fingers over the stone. “Hopefully this will help you. Guide you where you need to go.”

“Thank you, ma’am. How much do I —”

“Nonsense!” she waves him off. “You don’t need to pay me. Consider this a gift.”

Soonyoung places the celestite in the breast pocket of his jacket and bows. “I really appreciate it. Thank you!”

“Bring your friends next time, okay? And the ‘boy’,” she winks, and Soonyoung feels his face heating up.

The celestite was an ever-present weight against his chest, right above his heart, bouncing lightly up and down in Soonyoung’s pocket during his walk home. He grunts as he lugs the sack of fertilizer into the front door and up the stairs, placing it under the windowsill where Jihoon’s verbenas are. “I got your fertilizer!” Soonyoung calls out.

Jihoon stumbles out of Wonwoo’s room with Wonwoo following close behind. “Oh. Thanks. We made breakfast, up for some congee?”

Soonyoung’s stomach rumbles. The detour to the old lady’s stall made him completely forget about picking up some kimbap for himself to eat. “Yeah, I’m starving. But before that,” he reaches into his breast pocket and pulls out the celestite, “could you take a look at this for me?”

Jihoon takes the celestite and studies it, turning it over and over.

Wonwoo peers at it from behind him. “A celestite? Where did you get this?”

“An old lady at the market gave it to me,” Soonyoung replies. “Said it would help me or something. I wanted to know if it’s like, clean. Not cursed or whatever.”

Jihoon takes one last glance at it before handing it back to Soonyoung. “It’s clean, as far as I can tell. Just a piece of rock.”

“Why do you attract all the… interesting people?” Wonwoo asks, making his way to the kitchen. He pulls out three bowls from the cabinets and sets them down on the counter before spooning congee into each of them.

Soonyoung shrugs and puts the celestite back in his pocket. “They just… _know_ , I guess.”

“If that’s the case, Jihoon should be the one who people like us would be drawn more to considering the fact that his energy is, well, more noticeable,” Wonwoo says, handing Soonyoung a bowl and a spoon. It’s true; the stronger one’s abilities are, the harder to ignore one is.

“He’s right,” Jihoon agrees, but then again he hardly ever disagrees with Wonwoo. “I’ve never had a strange old lady come up to me and give me a gemstone.”

Soonyoung swallows a spoonful of congee. It’s comforting, something that he’s tasted a hundred times. There’s even bits of century egg in it, something that he knows Jihoon loves but Wonwoo hates. “I don’t know,” he says, swallows another mouthful of congee. “Maybe the universe wanted me to have that celestite or something.”

Jihoon hums after a while. “Maybe it does.”

 

***

 

The sight is familiar to Soonyoung: the blue and orange sky, the field — but this time it isn’t as dry and empty as before. There are tufts of grass growing; uneven, but still growing. Soonyoung could even spot a flower bud or two.

“It’s good to see you again,” says the young man when Soonyoung approaches him, not for the first time, and Soonyoung’s sure it won’t be the last either.

“There’s grass,” Soonyoung says, pointing to the ground, instead of acknowledging the young man. His happy smile flusters Soonyoung a little too much, makes his heart beat a little too fast. He crouches down and pokes at a bud; he could already see white petals starting to peek out. A ladybug crawls up the stem. “And flowers.”

“Indeed there are,” the man crouches down beside him. “I hope they’ll grow beautifully and healthily.”

“They will. This is my dream, isn’t it?” Soonyoung looks at the flowers in concentration. “I’ll make sure they will!”

The man laughs, light and airy. The electricity is back, sparking beneath Soonyoung’s skin. “Some of the most common gardening mistakes are that you don’t prune your plants. And that you don’t give them enough fertilizer; or give them too much. Oh, and also when you water the plants, you’re actually only watering the top of them and not actually the soil. What I’m saying is, please don’t dream of these things so that these flowers will grow well.”

“Now that I’m aware of it, I won’t,” Soonyoung says. “Or maybe I will. Then telling me all this will be counterproductive.”

They spend a few seconds watching the ladybug make its way up the flower’s stem before finally resting on a green leaf. Soonyoung speaks again. “By the way, I didn’t manage to catch your name the last time we met.”

“Junhui,” the young man replies, smiling as he locks eyes with Soonyoung. “My name’s Junhui. Or Jun, whichever you prefer.”

“Junhui,” Soonyoung says; the way the name rolls of his tongue isn’t unfamiliar at all. “ _Junhui._ Where have I heard that name before?”

“Maybe it’s a popular one.”

“Not in Seoul it isn’t,” Soonyoung’s eyebrows furrow. “Who… _are_ you?”

Junhui lets out a small sigh and it sounds almost… almost _tired_. He slowly lifts his hand, rests his index finger in the middle of Soonyoung’s forehead.

A bright light flashes, growing from the space between his eyes, until all Soonyoung could see is white, white, white. The thunder is back in his bones and louder than ever, rumbling and crackling until he realises it wasn’t just coming from within him. It’s also all around him.

Soonyoung blinks, and suddenly the blinding white is gone, like a sheet that had been pulled up to reveal this scene: gray sky, wet grass, rolling thunder. It’s raining pretty heavily, lightning flashing in the distance, the field already turning into a muddy mess. In the middle of it, a tree, and under it is Junhui. Even though his back is turned towards Soonyoung, he could still tell it was him from the slope of his shoulders, from the way he stands, the way he rests all his weight on one foot.

Junhui shifts, the movement revealing another person standing there right beside him, drenched to the bone too. It took Soonyoung a few moments for it to register, and when it finally did he was no less than bewildered.

Standing next to Junhui was _him_. He was looking at himself.

There's a voice in his ear that sounds a lot like Junhui, a rumble deep within his ribs, _'...serein, serendipity.'  
_

Soonyoung hears himself reply to vision-Junhui, _'Not even thunder and lightning can stop us.'_

 The vision disappears, all too suddenly and all too soon. Soonyoung takes a sharp breath before asking Junhui, baffled, “What was that?”

“You asked, didn’t you?” Junhui answers, slowly dropping his hand back to his side. Soonyoung could still feel the ghost of Junhui’s finger on his forehead as he rubs at it.

“That left me with more questions than answers,” Soonyoung says, a bit annoyed.

“What did you see?”

“You,” Soonyoung replies. “ _Us._ ” He looks at Junhui — his face is full of something Soonyoung can’t quite comprehend. “Why was _I_ there?”

Junhui glances down and Soonyoung follows his line of sight. Soonyoung’s fingers have already started to fade away.

Junhui looks up at him. “You tell me, Soonyoung.”

 

***

 

_Celestite:_

_Celestite, also known as celestine, is a delicate blue material containing strontium. Its name is derived from the word ‘celestial’, hence its strong historical association with heaven, angels and divinity. Celestite can help you get more in touch with your spiritual side and is a wonderful crystal for psychic healing. It can also help you navigate new chapters in your life by bringing in a restored sense of trust in yourself and the wisdom of the universe_ —

“What are you doing?”

Soonyoung jumps and slams his laptop shut, turns his head so that he’s glaring directly at Jihoon. “God, don’t you produce footsteps like a normal person? You scared me half to death.”

“Don’t know where you’ve been for the past two years, but we’re not exactly ‘normal people’,” Jihoon snickers. “Anyways, were you reading about the celestite that old lady gave you? You could just as Wonwoo about it, you know. I’m sure he’ll be glad to explain it to you.”

“Yeah, but it’s —” _embarrassing_ , Soonyoung wanted to say, “— I didn’t want to disturb him. He looked busy.” Although Wonwoo would be a much greater help than some sketchy online articles, Soonyoung knows that he’ll pry. He’ll ask Soonyoung questions that would help him find some semblance of connection between Soonyoung and this damn piece of celestite, questions that Soonyoung would rather not answer because it’ll boil down to one thing: Junhui.

And Soonyoung isn’t sure he’s ready to tell them about Junhui just yet.

“Alright, then I’ll help,” says Jihoon unexpectedly. “What did the website say?”

Soonyoung blinks at him. “What?”

Jihoon nudges his arm. “‘l’ll help you draw connections if you’re so hung up over this and won’t ask Wonwoo. What did the website say about celestite? We can start there.”

“I — I don’t —” Soonyoung sputters, surprised at Jihoon’s sudden willingness to help him. It’s not like Jihoon _never_ helps him, it’s just that more often than not Jihoon would prefer to not stick his nose in other people’s business. And also because Soonyoung really isn’t up for this conversation right now. He tries to deflect the subject. “Don’t you have verbenas to tend to?”

Jihoon sighs and pouts. “Yeah, but they’re not doing so well. They’re even starting to wilt. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong. I gave them fertilizer and they show me their thanks by _dying_ on me.”

“Maybe you gave them too much fertilizer? That’s not good for plants, I heard,” Soonyoung says, relaying the information that he got from Junhui. “Or you’re watering them the wrong way… Oh. Do you prune them?”

Jihoon tilts his head to one side and looks at him like he just grew two heads. “Prune them?”

“Yeah, like, you know,” Soonyoung does a scissoring motion with his fingers, “remove the dead flowers and leaves so new ones can grow.”

“Oh. I didn’t know you had to do that,” Jihoon says. “Since when did you become a gardening expert?”

Soonyoung freezes for a moment before regaining his senses. “I, uh, read a Buzzfeed article.”

Jihoon’s looking at him weirdly, and Soonyoung knows that Jihoon knows he’s hiding something, but Jihoon doesn’t say anything except, “Well, you want to help me then Mr.Gardening Man? Make sure I don’t fuck up?”

Soonyoung knows that this is an invitation to make him do all the heavy work, but he’d rather do that than talk about celestites and his feelings. “Sure. I’ve got nothing to do anyways.”

 

***

 

The field is lush and green, nothing at all like the barren desert Soonyoung first saw. Speckled amongst the grass are white flowers already in full bloom, their edges tinged orange by the sky. He bends down and plucks one up from the ground, playing with the soft petals between his fingers.

This time, it’s Junhui who walks up to him.

“Dianthus caryophyllus,” Junhui says when he spots the flower in Soonyoung’s hand. “Carnations.”

“They’re beautiful,” Soonyoung says.

“They come in different colours. Pink represents a mother’s love, red is admiration and affection, a striped one means rejection --”

“What about white?”

It takes a second for Junhui to answer, almost as if he’s hesitant. “Pure love.”

Soonyoung’s heart leaps in his chest, thunder and lightning strikes in the marrow of his bones. He moves; he doesn’t know what came over him — it was almost like he was possessed by an invisible force — but the next second he’s stepping closer towards Junhui and is placing the carnation right behind his ear. “There. A beautiful flower for someone even more beautiful.”

Junhui catches Soonyoung’s wrist before he could pull it away. His hold is light, his fingertips spark electricity from where they make contact against Soonyoung’s skin. When he speaks, his eyes are the colour of a stormy sky. “Sunrise, sanctuary, serein, serendipity.”

His words strike something deep within Soonyoung, but Soonyoung couldn’t tell what it was. He just stares at Junhui, those four words hanging in the air around them. When Soonyoung doesn’t say anything, Junhui visibly deflates, his shoulders drooping. He bites his bottom lip, eyebrows furrowed. “You really don’t remember me, do you?”

Soonyoung feels almost sorry. He shakes his head. “Am I supposed —”

Soonyoung didn’t get a chance to finish because before he knows it, Junhui’s lips are pressed against his. He freezes; they’re soft and warm and light and familiar. Too familiar. He doesn’t know what else to do except to close his eyes and melt into them.

The flashing white is back as soon as his eyelids shut; the vision of him and Junhui in the field standing under the rain replays itself but it’s brief, replaced quickly by a series of flashing images like a powerpoint presentation scrolled through too quickly. The images are bright and warm, as if someone had placed a filter over them: Junhui crouching by a calico cat by the side of the street scratching between its ears before smiling up at Soonyoung, Junhui sitting in the middle of a gray couch with Soonyoung to his left and Wonwoo and Jihoon to his right, Soonyoung plucking out stems of colourful wildflowers and handing them to Junhui.

And then, all too suddenly, the warmth is gone, replaced by something gray and desaturated: it’s raining, again, but this time it’s so cold that it penetrates skin and flesh, freezes the bones. The image is out of focus, but Soonyoung could make out bits and pieces — a large body of water, maybe a pond or a lake… Wet clothes sticking onto skin. Water seeping into lungs. An infinite weight. Someone screams in the distance, and it sounds almost too much like himself.

Junhui pulls away. Soonyoung’s eyes snap open.

“I knew you,” Soonyoung whispers, letting out a deep and shaky breath through his nostrils. “ _We_ knew you.”

Junhui places a hand on Soonyoung’s cheek, wipes away the tears that Soonyoung didn’t even realize he had shed. “Ask them, Soonyoung. Ask them about me.”

“But, how? Do I just… How do I bring this up?” Soonyoung asks, unsure. “Will they know what I’m talking about?”

“They will, most probably,” Junhui replies. “You’re waking up soon.” He points at Soonyoung’s disappearing hands, takes one last look at Soonyoung before he says, voice like rain hitting pavement, “Please remember me.”

 

***

 

“Where’s the cosmic turtle?”

Jihoon throws a piece of popcorn at Wonwoo. “Stop talking about the cosmic turtle.”

“You can’t make me not talk about the turtle!” exclaims Wonwoo, throwing the piece of popcorn back at Jihoon who promptly dodges it. Jihoon sticks his tongue out at him. “They can’t just include hints about the turtle and not have the actual thing show up at the end!”

“Maybe that’s the point,” Jihoon says after he takes a sip of his soda. “Like… it’s there, but its presence is subtle. It’s still protecting the kids, but not in a way that’s so obvious.”

Wonwoo pouts and sinks back into his seat, shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “That’s the coward’s way out. Give me cosmic, god-like, creator-of-the-universe turtle or give me death.”

Jihoon rolls his eyes. “And you claim you’re the least dramatic out of the three of us.” He bends forward, fingers hovering over the keys of his laptop that’s connected to the TV. “So, what’s next on our list? I’m thinking _The Shining_.”

“We should save that for last. What about _Halloween_?” suggests Wonwoo.

“I’m game,” Jihoon says. He turns to Soonyoung. “Soonyoung?”

When Soonyoung doesn’t reply, Jihoon kicks him in the skin. The dull pain shocks Soonyoung and causes him to stir from his reverie. “What?”

“Do you want to watch _Halloween_?” asks Wonwoo, peering up at Soonyoung over the rim of his glasses.

“Uh, actually,” Soonyoung stretches and fakes a yawn. “I’m tired. I think I’ll go head to bed.”

“Already? It’s,” Jihoon checks his phone, “barely even ten.”

“Yeah, I’m _super_ tired,” Soonyoung fakes another yawn. “You two go ahead and watch.”

Jihoon quietly watches him start to slowly rise from the couch, looking as if he’s got something to say on the tip of his tongue. At the end, it’s Wonwoo who speaks up.

“What’s going on, Soonyoung?” he asks, straightening up in his seat, sounding much like a concerned parent. Soonyoung freezes in place.

“What do you mean what’s going on? I’m just… tired. And I don’t want to disturb your date night,” Soonyoung replies. The last part was mostly a joke, but anyone with eyes could see that Wonwoo and Jihoon had A Thing going on, whatever that Thing is. Soonyoung thinks it’s best they figure it out themselves.

He could see the tip of Jihoon’s ears turn red, but his face is schooled into a neutral expression. “You know what Wonwoo’s talking about. You’re acting so… so differently lately. I can sense it.”

“Always the know-it-all, aren’t you?” Soonyoung quips. “If you can sense it, then why don’t you use your mighty powers to figure out what’s wrong with me?”

“Hey! There’s no need to snap at him like that,” scolds Wonwoo.

“Then you and your boyfriend should stop putting your noses in my business!”

“What the hell is wrong with you?” exclaims Jihoon, looking at him incredulously. “What are you yelling at us for?”

“I don’t fucking know!” Soonyoung admits, throwing his hands up in frustration. “I’m scared and confused and I have a lot of questions!”

“Then just fucking _ask_ us,” Wonwoo says. “Maybe we can help.”

Soonyoung nods. “Alright,” he takes a deep breath. He’s been torturing himself trying to find the right time and words to phrase what he’s about to ask Wonwoo and Jihoon all day, but he had always come up short. Now, the opportunity is presenting itself to him on a silver platter, and Soonyoung figures it’s best to be as direct as possible. “Who’s Junhui?”

Wonwoo freezes. Jihoon looks as if he had forgotten how to breathe.

The room is deathly quiet, the only source of sound coming from the turned down volume of the TV. The credits are still rolling, the white text illuminating Wonwoo’s face in an almost eerie glow. He asks, “Where did you hear that name?”

“That doesn’t matter,” Soonyoung replies. “You didn’t answer my question. Who is he?”

Jihoon whips his head around to look at Wonwoo. “The dream. _His_ dream.”

“Is it possible?”

Jihoon shrugs. “It’s the only explanation. How else would he —”

“I’m _right here_!” Soonyoung exclaims, waving his hands to get Wonwoo’s and Jihoon’s attention. “I don’t appreciate the two of you blatantly discussing things I know nothing about, especially if it concerns me, right in front of my face.”

“Right, sorry,” Jihoon apologizes. “But confirm this one thing for me. The man you saw in your dream a few days ago, it’s Junhui, right?” Soonyoung nods. “You said you didn’t get his name. How do you know it now?”

“He told me,” Soonyoung answers.

“What? How?”

“I’ve been dreaming about him ever since that first night,” Soonyoung confesses. “Well, not dreaming _about_ him. Dreaming _with_ him is more accurate.”

“And you didn’t care to tell us about this?” says Wonwoo.

“Hey, you guys acted like I was insane the first time I told you about it! Maybe I would’ve been more open had you indulged me in my concerns. Besides, it didn’t feel right telling you just yet,” Soonyoung admits sheepishly. “And you still haven’t answered my question! Who is he?”

“It’s…” Jihoon shakes his head, “complicated.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Jihoon starts after a beat of silence, his face suddenly serious. “He’s been dead for five months, Soonyoung.”

Silence, heavy and thick, weighs down on Soonyoung’s entire being. It feels like they’re playing an overly complicated prank on him. “What?”

“Or at least we thought he was,” Jihoon continues, dragging a hand down his face. He looks tired suddenly. “God, how the fuck is this happening?”

“I’m sorry, _what?_ ” Soonyoung repeats, still not believing his ears.

“Junhui died, Soonyoung. Drowned in a lake doing whatever ritual he was doing,” Wonwoo explains, voice low. “We couldn’t find his body, not even with a pendulum and Jihoon tapping into me. He just… disappeared.”

Soonyoung stares at Wonwoo who’s not quite looking at him, swallows the lump in his throat. “Then why don’t I remember him?”

“You didn’t want to. You wished to forget him and I guess,” Jihoon shrugs, “the universe listened.”

“I — that still doesn’t explain _why_ I wanted to forget,” Soonyoung says. He’s completely aware that the universe works in strange and mysterious ways. If he had done something for it once, granting this wish was probably its way of paying him back. He still can’t wrap his mind around the fact that he willingly wanted to erase all of his memories of Junhui.

“You…” Jihoon gestures vaguely in the air before trailing off. He looks at Wonwoo for help.

“You loved him,” Wonwoo says. The words hit Soonyoung like bricks to the face, stomping on his chest until his rib cage is caved in. “At least, that’s what you drunkenly told me at two in the morning on a Tuesday night once. You loved him, and I’m pretty sure he loved you too. Having lived a life with him and then getting that ripped away from you was more painful than having lived a life without him in the first place, so I guess that’s why you asked to forget him.”

“Remembering hurt you more than forgetting did,” Jihoon supplies. “You woke up one morning not even recognizing his name, and you looked the happiest you’ve ever been since we lost him. So we just…” Jihoon shrugs, looking guilty as he does so, “played along.”

The truth is a sharp, heavy weight on Soonyoung’s shoulders. He feels nothing, yet everything all at once. His legs are about to give out on him, so he sits back down on the couch, runs his hands through his hair. “But I don’t want to forget anymore. I want to remember.” He swallows, looks at Jihoon, and then at Wonwoo. “ _He_ wants me to remember.”

“I’m not sure how we’re going to reverse whatever it is that happened to you,” Wonwoo starts, reaching over to hold Soonyoung’s hand, “but we’ll figure it out together. I promise.”

 

***

 

The sky is more pink than orange now, and the carnations around his feet have started to droop and wither. Soonyoung meets Junhui in the middle; Junhui looks at him expectantly, but Soonyoung just shakes his head.

“I can’t remember, Junhui. I’m sorry,” Soonyoung says, voice soft.

Junhui smiles, but it’s sad and heartbreaking. “It’s okay. Hearing you say my name this one last time is more than enough.”

Soonyoung’s eyes snap up to meet him. “What do you mean one last time?”

Junhui sighs and gestures to the dying field around him. “I don’t have much time left, Soonyoung.”

Panic settles deep in the crevices of Soonyoung’s bones. It’s louder than the thunder. “No. _No, no, no, no._ You can’t —” _die._ The word falls away on the tip of Soonyoung’s tongue, afraid that if he were to say it out loud it would become true. Look at what happened when he said he wanted to forget Junhui.

“Then find me,” says Junhui. “I’ll be waiting for you, but you have to hurry.”

“I —” Soonyoung chokes back tears. “How will I be able to find you?”

“You’ll know, Soonyoung.” Junhui smiles, holds Soonyoung close and presses a kiss on his temple. “You’ll know.”

This time, it’s Junhui who fades away first, disappearing in a hurricane of scattered white petals.

 

***

 

Soonyoung shoots up from where he was asleep on the couch, the back of his shirt drenched with sweat. At the same time, Jihoon, who’s sitting on the ground right across from him, opens his eyes with a sharp intake of breath.

“Are you two okay?” Wonwoo asks worriedly from beside Jihoon.

“He’s dying. Junhui’s dying,” Soonyoung says shakily. “I — we have to find him. Quickly. We don’t have much time left.”

Wonwoo looks dejectedly at the pendulum and crystal orb sitting in front of him. They’ve been awake almost all night trying to figure out a way to remove Soonyoung’s memory block or to locate Junhui, to no avail. Despite the numerous cups of tea that Soonyoung had drunk so that Wonwoo could read his tea leaves, he still fell asleep, which he now considers was a good thing since he isn’t sure now if Junhui would still be there if he had slept a day later.

“I think I found something in the ley lines,” Jihoon announces. “We couldn’t sense anything before because the change was so miniscule, but now that I’ve found it, it’s hard to ignore.”

“Are the lines corrupted?” Wonwoo asks.

Jihoon shakes his head. “No, not corrupted. More like…” he pauses to find the right word, “misaligned? Just a tiny bit.”

“That must be how he’s been tapping into Soonyoung’s dreams,” Wonwoo says.

“But we couldn’t pinpoint his energy or whatever so he’s… he should be, for lack of a better word, dormant, right? If he truly did manage to move the ley lines on his own in a dormant state then he’s more powerful than we gave him credit for.”

“What does this mean, then? Will you be able to find him?” Soonyoung asks expectantly, getting off the couch to kneel in front of Jihoon.

“I can try? I know what to vaguely look out for, at least. Although I won’t be able to find his exact location,” replies Jihoon, unrolling the map and laying it out flat in front of him. “He’s still in South Korea, I’m sure of that.”

“Great. That only leaves us to look at, what, a thousand different places?” Wonwoo mutters.

Jihoon rolls his eyes. He wraps the chain of the pendulum around his hand, leaving a good amount so that it could still swing freely around. “The misalignment is somewhere around the south… Maybe Gwangju? Mokpo? We can focus our search there.” He looks at Wonwoo and clears his throat. “Can I…?”

Wonwoo sighs. “Go ahead.”

Watching Jihoon and Wonwoo work together is always fascinating. They’ve done it enough times that Jihoon’s able to tap into Wonwoo without much of a hitch. Nothing changes much except Wonwoo just gets paler the longer they’re connected, since it is tiring and requires a lot of energy; and they also move more in sync with each other, almost as if they could predict what the other was going to do or say before it even happens.

The pendulum swings. All three of them watch the purple crystal, waiting with bated breath, until finally it rests on a part of the map that none of themhad been expecting. 

“Jeju?!” Wonwoo exclaims when the pendulum comes to a slow halt. “What the fuck is he doing in _Jeju_ , out of all places?”

“Jesus, this is harder than I thought it was going to be. If the pendulum had stopped at any of the southern cities it would have been easier since the area we’re searching for isn’t as big and we’re still somewhat connected to it, but Jeju is a whole other island by itself,” Jihoon wipes the sweat off his brow. “Not to mention we’re separated by the fucking ocean.”

“You can still try, right?” Soonyoung asks almost desperately.

Jihoon nods. “I’m going to need a map of Jeju though. And a stronger pendulum, if we have one.”

“I’ll go get the map,” Wonwoo announces before running off to his room.

Soonyoung stays where he is for a moment before he remembers something. “I'll be back,” he says to Jihoon before going to his own room. He finds his jacket slung over the back of a chair and digs into its breast pocket, pulls out the piece of celestite. When he gets back to the living room, Wonwoo’s already back and the map of South Korea had been replaced with a map of Jeju. Soonyoung takes his place back in front of Jihoon and hands him the celestite. “Try this.”

Jihoon pops the purple pendulum out of its metal holder and shoves the celestite inside; it’s scary how almost perfectly it fits. They repeat the process again; the pendulum swings around, around, around.

This time, the pendulum doesn’t stop at a certain location. Instead, it hovers over an area, almost in a rectangular motion.

“What is it showing us?” Jihoon asks.

Wonwoo squints at the map. “The area — Seongyo-ro.”

“Junhui’s got a green thumb, right? Is there a place there that’s, I don’t know, filled with nature? Mountains? Rivers? A nature reserve? A forest?”

“Geomunoreum,” Soonyoung announces after scanning the map. “It’s a lava tube system. It has everything you described.”

Jihoon sets the celestite down with a sense of finality. “Then I guess we’re going to Geomunoreum.”

 

***

 

The three of them took the first plane to Jeju island early in the morning. Jihoon and Wonwoo practically passed out the moment their butts touched the plane seats, but Soonyoung didn’t catch a wink of sleep. He couldn’t — he doesn’t know what he’d do if he falls asleep and Junhui isn’t there anymore.

From the city, they took a cab to Geomunoreum. The thirty minute drive there felt like an eternity. Once there, though, they were at a lost as to what to do. Although they narrowed it down to one area, Geomunoreum is still huge, and it would take days for the three of them to search the whole place. Days that they did not have.

“Maybe we should join a group tour,” Wonwoo suggests. “That way we’ll get to see most of the place and have a feel for it.” It’s the only thing they can do for  now, so they did.

The three of them, along with their tour group of families and tourists, are guided up the Seongsan Ilchulbong Peak. From way up there, Soonyoung could see the blue ocean spanning across miles and miles below them, waves gently crashing against the cliffs. Soonyoung felt a strange connection with this place, which makes him even more sure that Junhui is here, somewhere.

They’re a few weeks into summer, the trees surrounding them serve as a well-appreciated shade from the shining sun. Although the forest is dense, it provides some relief from the heat. A stone pathway, one that their guide had told them to not stray from, leads into the forest.

“Look!” exclaims a little girl, the only child of a family of tourists from Busan. “Flowers!” She bends down to pick one out of the ground, only to be chided by her mother.

Their guide laughs. “Yes, what pretty flowers! I think these are —”

“Dianthus caryophyllus,” Soonyoung says when he spots the white flower in the girl’s hand. He feels the thunder at the base of his spine, ignores the strange looks he’s getting from Jihoon and Wonwoo. “Carnations.”

The guide blinks before smiling at him. “Yes, you’re right. You sure know your flowers! It’s a bit odd, though. They don’t usually grow around here…”

“Maybe it’s magic!” the little girl exclaims.

The guide crouches down and tucks the carnation behind the girl’s ear. “Maybe it is!”

Soonyoung lingers at the back of the group for a while, staring at the white carnations growing from the ground under his feet. Once he’s sure they’re a bit further away, he turns to Jihoon and Wonwoo and says, “It’s Junhui.”

“How do you —” Wonwoo starts.

“Because I saw these exact flowers in my dreams,” Soonyoung cuts him off before he could even finish his question. “I don’t just become a flower genius overnight. Dianthus caryophyllus. Carnations. White ones mean ‘pure love’. Junhui taught me.” Soonyoung takes a shaky breath. “He said that I — I’d know how to find him.”

Heavy silence falls between them for a while until Jihoon finally says, “I believe you. Let’s go follow the flowers.”

Wonwoo relents. “Okay, but we have to hurry. They’ll realize we’re missing sooner or later.”

Soonyoung leads them off the stone pathway, following the white carnations on the ground. The further they get away from the pathway, the less the carnations were clustered together and the more they look like a trail, leading them deeper and deeper into the dark forest, until the flowers just… stop.

They were lead to a small clearing. Rows and rows of cedar trees surround them, shooting up into the vast blue sky. Twigs crunch under Soonyoung’s boots; birds chirp in the distance, breaking the silence. Here, the thunder in his bones rumble the loudest they’ve ever been, as if it’s speaking to him; as if it’s saying, _“You’re here. You’re here.”_

“Nothing,” Jihoon says from behind him, frustrated. “Where is he?”

Soonyoung studies the ground that they’re standing on and realizes that something’s odd. “Look. The soil. It’s…”

“Disturbed,” Wonwoo continues. He looks at Soonyoung in bewilderment. “Do you think he’s…?”

Soonyoung nods before he falls to his knees and starts digging. Jihoon and Wonwoo stare at him for a while like he’s crazy before they crouch down beside him and start digging too. It might have taken days for all he knows; Soonyoung digs and digs until he’s sure that he’ll never get rid of the dirt under his nails, until he can’t feel his fingers anymore.

Suddenly, his hand grazes upon something warm and fleshy. At first, Soonyoung thinks it’s Wonwoo’s hand, but when he still feels it even when Wonwoo’s taking a short break to wipe the sweat off his forehead, he thinks, _‘It’s him.’_

Soonyoung digs deeper and faster until he finds a hand in the ground. He looks at Jihoon, then at Wonwoo, before the three of them start excavating the dirt by the area of where the person’s face should be.

With their combined efforts, it doesn’t take long for them to unearth the upper half of the person’s body, and to their relief, it _is_ Junhui.

His lips are pale, his hair a mess, but he’s still breathing, albeit shallowly. Soonyoung places a hand on the side of Junhui’s face and breathes out, dusts away the dirt still sticking on his cheek.

Then, Junhui opens his eyes. A deep, drowning brown. He sits up, slowly, slowly, slowly.

Soonyoung cries out in relief, body wracked with sobs as he envelopes Junhui in a hug so tight that he’s sure he’s crushed Junhui’s ribs.

Junhui laughs, croaky. His voice is raspy with disuse. “Soonie.” The nickname is too familiar; something pangs in Soonyoung’s chest. “You made it.”

Soonyoung pulls away, takes in the sight of Junhui: smiling, breathing, alive. _Alive._

Soonyoung kisses him, all love and two-toned skies and fragile white carnations; the thunder in Soonyoung’s bones sing, _‘Finally, you’re here. Finally, you’ve found him.’_

Soonyoung doesn’t remember much, but he remembers this: rain on a spring day, two boys standing in the middle of the downpour as they sing back to the thunder. Grass and dirt under bare feet, mud on the hem of his jeans. Laughter. The fleeting feeling of softness, of bliss, of kisses under the shade of a tree. It’s hazy, like an old movie played by faceless actors he hasn’t watched in years but still vaguely remembers the plot of. And then there’s the whispering voice that sends Soonyoung reeling, soft and quiet like the words aren’t meant for anyone but him to hear: _Sunrise, sanctuary, serein, serendipity._

Not even thunder and lightning could have stopped them.

**Author's Note:**

> warnings & disclaimers:  
> \- character death is mentioned, but he's not really dead. it's hard to explain.  
> \- there are vague descriptions of drowning.  
> \- there's also a scene where a character is uhhh dug out from the ground??? again, it's hard to explain.  
> \- everything i know about psychic abilities, tarot readings, crystals, etc. comes from online research. i personally do not practice any of them so apologies if i got anything wrong!  
> \- i've also never been to geomunoreum, so again i apologise if some descriptions incorrect!  
> \- the title of this fic is taken from e.e. cummings' poem 'somewhere i have never traveled, greatly beyond'. 
> 
>  
> 
> comments are always greatly appreciated, i'd love to know what you think!!! thank you to the mods who organised this secret santa; it's my first time joining something like this and i had so much fun! merry christmas and happy holidays. i hope you'll all get to spend a wonderful day with your loved ones!!!
> 
> edit: HELLO!!! secret santas are finally revealed!!! i'm curious whether or not anyone suspected that i wrote this??? HAHA anyways, feel free to yell at me over on [twitter](https://twitter.com/softerstorms)!


End file.
